Never Loved Drabbles
by goddessa39
Summary: Sometime before surprise, it's just a night at the Bronze between Xander, Willow, Buffy, Angel, and Oz.


**Never Loved Drabbles**

I don't own the Jossverse.

Sometime pre Surprise

PG13?

**Xander Never Loved**

He watched her move on the dance floor, all tiny curves and not-so-innocent rumbling muscles under the new blue dress that hugged her tight (no fat only muscle beautifulenticingsensual), small straps to show off the golden skin that filled his dreams at night when he was all alone.

He took another sip of his drink, hooded eyes watching the crowded stage; the one dancer in his mind was her though. The rest were cannon fodder as Giles would have said. The music vibrated through his normal teen muscles and he could feel the movement of the crowd.

His feelings stirred. (Redredred blood running down a cross in a church)

He watches her, and his friend at his side watches him. Her red hair made her skin stand out and he knew his best friend was beautiful but he couldn't think of her that way. His thoughts were filled with the girl on the stage in the middle of the crowd.

But as her arms (thin and strong) wrapped around the neck of a taller man in black, and he knew she would always be possessed (it's like magic) by him, as all of the men were by her oblivious spirit.

The music rocked (feels like drums in the jungle) and he took a sip of his drink and wondered if this was that aching feeling Shakespeare always wrote about.

**Willow Never Loved**

Her red hair (red as blood and sun that's setting) was straight and combed her face (childlike). She was shy (ageless and unknowing) and young (smart and new to) but the passion in her was pointed at one she wished would look at her. He sat beside her, his mind twenty feet away at a pretty blonde with green eyes and the strength of ten men.

She had dressed up a little prettier than normal, her newer friend having semi-classed her on what to wear. She wouldn't wear what the other girl had wanted her to but there was no plaid or tacky white preschool shoes. Instead she wore new platforms and a blue skirt with a white shirt and a red belt that matched her hair.

She felt too exposed but maybe if she showed herself to the world he would love her. The music vibrated in her school and she could feel the passion between the dancer and the broody vampire in front of them, mixed in the crowd but points to view for those standing around.

She blew a strand of hair out of her face and wished he would love her and give up on the unheeded passion at the blonde girl already taken.

**Buffy Never Loved**

She moved her hips in the crowd at no one in particular but in her mind they were at the broody vampire who was resisting her dance. Her arms rocked above her head as others pressed against her, the fray of the crowd a mindless automaton to the rational placements of people.

She moves, a tale in her spirity dance and the Slayer is joined with her in this trap. She is pulling at something (something important she can't ignore) that is too much of a twin to herself that she can't _not_ pull. Everything she ever did and will do is in her feet and her arms and her hair and head and belly as they rise and fall and move out of place. Everything in her treads a map on a road of her life that is (iswaswilleverbe) harder than it should be and not hard enough to last forever anywhere else but his mind and her soul that will move on.

This is her pull. This dance of forever and everything. The ones who came before her didn't know how but this is instinctual in her.

She could feel countless eyes on her and hoped they weren't her male friend's but knew one pair of Spanish ojos would be. There were eyes of strangers though, welcome and unwelcome all alike. But this was a dance and her new blue dress the color of the night see hugged her body. The lotion on her arms seemed to sparkle and she hoped it wasn't sweat.

She sighed aloud as the music went on, making her ears clamor protests at the too-loud commotion. Her extra Slayer bits were not fit for this type of music that was loud enough to wake the dead. But she needed normality if she was to survive.

The dead noticed her as he came into the club, quiet and silent as a specter. A girl looked at him with proposition in her eyes and the woman in her wanted to rear her head and snarl at the girl wanting at _hers_.

He came and breather her in and she wrapped her arms around her. The eyes were still on them but she didn't care.

**Angel Never Loved**

He shouldn't and he knows he shouldn't but he is and everything around him is a contradiction. But he does have a soul and he think this feeling in him has to be adhered to. He can't _not_ go and maybe that's a sin but so would be ignoring the passion ignited in him when he saw golden hair and golden skin on green eyes with innocence and a matching half of a soul.

He can feel the music from blocks away but it is Her that is his magnetic flame. He can smell her down the way with hundreds of other teens her age and past and he feels further guilty and jealous that he cannot see her in the light.

But he's going to the club to watch her dance, the siren. He knows he will drown when he gets there even when she tries to save him because she will.

He passes the bouncer silently. He'll feel guilty for not paying but he (needs to needs to) has to get there and watch her sing with her body and tell her tale. The blonde catches his attention and the dark brunette that looks at him is hardly seen and moves along when she realizes she is ignored. He thinks he imagines the striding change in her movements for a second but is slowly traveling to the flame (too fast too slow nothing else around them) that will drown him.

He reaches her and she turns (eyes meet old young same is everything) and he catches her eyes (green as emeralds and ocean water running over Ireland) and he (drownsdrownsdrowns into endless depths of everything that iswaswilleverbe) meets (soul mates foreverandalways) his mate in the face as she wraps her arms around him.

And he knows this is heaven and hell in a package.

**Oz Never Loved**

He is at the sidelines fixing his cords in the instrument he plays next to Devon. He's quiet and shy but he can face it and pass it. There is nothing he really wants to do but this is good enough for him until he finds it.

And he looks over (and he finds it) and there is a redhead with a skirt and a shirt that makes her look beautiful with her school girl (innocent) hair catching his attention and he wants to (spread his fingers through her soft hair) say hello and maybe get some coffee. Maybe she'll dance but he sees her shy attitude and the boy sitting next to her with his mind watching elsewhere.

His eyes turn back to a girl, all blonde and soft curves (they're muscles that kill in the night) and a dress that attaches itself to her. She's moving and every male is watching. He's kind of shocked (more attuned to the world around him) then the rest but something stirs in him and he locks it down.

He doesn't speak but he thinks if he went to the girl (shy and curves she wont usually show at all) sitting in a new white shirt he might say more then seven words in his sentences.

A guy, tall, (black duster swaying in the dark as something dies in his arms) and sad looking with a hint of something else primal is coming towards the blonde making (sensualbeatuifulsmoothe) dancing moves with her petite body. He watches and there is something in the air between them that makes it seem (beautiful wonderful fire in hell) like passion and something raw they look to young for.

If he could see their eyes he would know they are too old for pointless kisses and hopes.

He is young still though and he wants to (run his hair over the pale skin and through the red hair) watch the girl he can't put a name to when Devon calls him back to reality and they ready to play their music next.

He'll watch her as long as she is there though.

The blonde turns and they face each other and he is almost afraid of what they have (he hopes he'll have it) but (with the young red head sitting on the stool trying not to show how awkward she really is) feels he doesn't understand everything about him and knows it isn't really his business what the (green eyes to drown in, brown eyes to burn in) two people in their own worlds on the dance floor think.

END


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